


Badlands

by PausedInTime



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M, doctor who - Freeform, kingdom au, whouffaldi, whouffaldi au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5224361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PausedInTime/pseuds/PausedInTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Whouffaldi/ Queen Victoria has the wonderful delight of meeting Cardinal Richelieu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Badlands

A/N; This is a One-Shot and I’m very aware both of them lived in at different times but let’s just pretend the Cardinal lived through Queen Victoria’s reign for Whouffaldi purposes.

 

16th November 

1838 

England

 

“Your Majesty,” a squire boy calls as he enters the throne room, face red and blonde hair a mess.

The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland rose from her throne, the crown on top of her head had been made perfectly to fit her head. She had short brown hair that was pushed up into her crown whenever she was required to wear it. “Yes, boy? What is it?” she asks sharply, wanting to know right away. 

Victoria had been rebellious from the start when she first acquired the throne, exactly a year ago today. She was just eighteen when she began to rule both Great Britain and Ireland and she was damn good at it. She knew that she was a control freak so being the Queen was certainly a good role for her egomania. The Queen’s hazel brown eyes flicker over the young boy, she sighs heavily, already bored with what he is about to tell her or announce to her.

The boy opens the tall wooden doors and two soldiers walk through with a rather lanky man leading in behind them, “Cardinal Richelieu of France, your Majesty. He comes baring news about the King of France as his closest friend and adviser,” the young boy steps backwards and the soldiers lead the Cardinal towards the Queen.

The Cardinal bows his head, his hands are behind his back and he is dressed in complete black, even his cloak is black. He has grey hair that has been flattened by his black hat and he is wearing so many jewels the Queen is surprised he hasn’t fallen over them with his own feet. She is not offended he didn’t bow completely, she is well aware of his loyalty to the King of France. For some reason, Victoria finds the Cardinal fairly handsome. His age did not bother her, he was distinctive and handsome at that. He had the most beautiful green eyes and his eyebrows were more expressive than her own. He had a polite manner about him and she certainly appreciated it.

“Armand Jean du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu, advisor of the King of France,” he smiles at her and for some reason, it excites her in a way that she cannot explain, a fire in her belly she could not stop. 

She bows her head to him, “Queen Victoria of Great Britain and Ireland, Cardinal. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I would advise you not to judge my power, Armand. My age means nothing,” 

Richelieu plants his foot on one of the steps, he reaches out his hand, a sly grin on his lips. He takes her hand and kisses her soft skin, his eyes bore into hers when he looks up at her. His lips do not leave her hand until she looks away from him, which is a full minute before she can tear her eyes away from him. The Queen knows she should not look at him, for one he was French and the other reason, he was far too old for her. But she found herself not caring one bit.

He stands up straight, hands behind his back, “My age does not mean anything either, your Majesty. I am so very happy to meet you,” he spoke with a heavy French accent and the curiosity in Victoria sparks her imagination, she imagines what it would be like to hear his accent growl into her ear. She swallows and crosses her legs, sucking in a breath.

“The King wishes to dine with you in a week’s time, your Majesty. He wants to discuss a treaty to unit Great Britain and France once again, if you would allow him,”

Victoria stands from her throne, she stops right in front of the Cardinal, they are standing so close to each other gossip might be starting about them, “I will allow him, Cardinal, please inform the King of France I will happily join him next week,”

Richelieu licks his bottom lip, his eyes cast over her young face, “As you wish, your Majesty,” his eyes do not move from hers, she seems to be stuck in a trance, their eyes dancing together. They’re leaning closer and closer together that they are almost sharing breaths, the soldiers around them do not bat an eyelid. 

Victoria’s eyes watch the Cardinal before she simply turns around, she catches her breath and sits back on her throne, as if nothing had happened. She nods her head to her soldiers as they escort Armand from the room, the Queen notices the knowing smirk on Richelieu’s face and she has no doubt she will see him again.

 

Years Later

16th November

1900

 

“Mother,” Edward rushes into the Queen’s bedchambers, he had heard from his siblings that she had fallen ill with the flu. He kneels by her bedside, his hand automatically reaches for hers but she does not reach out. Typical for the Queen, she never lets others fight her battles.

The Queen slowly sits up, “My son,” she mutters, Edward thinks she is going to reach her hand out and touch his face but instead she points to an envelope on her wooden desk, full of letters she had not opened. They looked dated and as if they had been deliberately left sealed and chucked into her desk drawers.

“Read that letter to me, it is information about Cardinal Richelieu. It was sent to me over twenty years ago but I never wished to read it.”

Prince Edward frowns and leans back, his hand reaches out and he grabs the letter from his mother’s desk. He strokes his greying beard and his mouth dries, “Addressed to the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland and Empress of India, we regret to inform you that Armand Jean du Plessis, Cardinal-Duke of Richelieu and of Fronsac died in his sleep of old age. He requested this letter to be sent to you, your Majesty with love and great admiration,” the prince stops talking once he notices for the first time in years his mother is crying.

“Mother?”

Queen Victoria shakes her head, her hand is on her mouth and she is trying to stop herself from crying, “I knew I should have never read it, Edward. I loved your father, I did. But I was so young and Armand was so very charming and he was nothing like the Frenchmen you would expect,” she takes Prince Edward’s hand and squeezes it tightly, in need of some sort of comfort for her long dead lover.

“I’m sorry, Edward. I don’t meant to disrespect your father but Armand was a good man. But it would have never worked out,” Victoria sniffs and wipes her tears from her cheeks, she stares at Prince Edward and she cannot work out if he’s offended or not. 

Prince Edward frowns and passes the letter to the Queen, “Why not?” he asks, she was not expecting her son to be so interested.

Victoria smiles sweetly, replaying a fond memory in her head of the Cardinal’s lips against her hand when they had first met over seventy years ago.

 

“He was impossible.”


End file.
